Underneath it all
by Human Being
Summary: Illusions and half-lies, on a dark lullaby under a black sun. Yaoi, Saga/Kanon, sort of Alternate Reality.


Disclaimer: Saint Seiya ain't mine, well well.

Synopsis: Illusions and half-lies, in a dark lullaby that turned the sky black.

Warnings: Yaoi, dark lemon (bdsm and dub-con), darkfic, deathfic, alternate reality.

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This fic is a gift to Scarlet.D, whose awesome ideas about Saint Seiya in general (and a special shipping specifically) got me totally addicted.

Also special thanks to Shaka Fics, who helped to refine it as a sort of Beta Reader. Hope you guys like it!

(Just saying, I apologize in advance for any grammar/spelling mistakes in this fic, as this is not my mother tongue and it's been a while I don't write in english. I tried my best to make them absent, but I may have failed...)

On with the show.

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**Underneath It All**

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He woke up in a snap, ragged breaths tearing out of his throat.

Again, he couldn't remember a thing about the dream which woke him up like this. Not the first time, though, and he had the clear sensation it wouldn't be the last.

He tried to calm down, letting the air in and out as slowly as he could. It helped most of the time, but lately it was helping less and less.

It was not like he was the only one haunted with the fear. Fear was everywhere, he could sense the unease from the highest ranks of the Order to the lowest peasants from Rodorio, since the Sun turned black in an eclipse that lasted for days now. Some said it was a bad omen, even a sign that the End was close. He didn't know what kind of end it could be, but he also knew that no natural phenomena behaved like this. It was clearly unnatural, that was granted, and he believed that they should be investigating it right now, and he was even told it was already being done; but even for him, a gold saint close to the Grand Pope as he was, information about it were anything but clear. Mismatched and confusing, seeming much more to be mere rumors than a legit product of a serious investigation in the Sanctuary of Athena.

But that were no news: He knew the Sanctuary was not a place where information was clear and accessible to all: It was more like a valuable and yet deceiving good that was traded for favors and interests. Even for him it was very hard to tell what was the truth or what was a convenient lie framed by those interested in power and control. And he couldn't even know for sure who those people were, who were the puppets and who were the puppeteers.

For a while, he believed this sensation of impotence to be the cause of his night terrors. Feeling for sure that something was terribly wrong but not being able to pinpoint what could really stress him enough, but he knew it was not only that. There was something else, he could sense deep inside, but the more he thought about it, the more his mind kept playing tricks, making him feel even worse about his own insecurities. His position as a Gold Saint certainly couldn't allow him to behave like the scary boy he was not even in his own childhood, so he brushed it all off, trying to ignore it the better he could. No use: It was becoming worse, and the Eclipse didn't help his matters at all.

He sighed heavily, going towards his bathroom for a cold shower. Cold it would be, since he didn't feel comfortable in a long hot bath. Of many things, water could sometimes set him off, and he never, ever could tell why. But that was one of those tricky issues he tossed under the mat, anyway. The water was ice cold, just as he expected, and his shower was long enough for him to wash his hair and clean his body. He had a meeting with the Grand Pope, and he didn't like to wait, so he couldn't be late. He couldn't afford to be late.

In a few moments he was at the Pope's room, waiting for him to come from wherever he was now. He hoped he was talking to Athena about the Eclipse, since he was the only one to have access to the Goddess, for her security's sake. There was so long he didn't see any sign of the Goddess that he wasn't sure if his memories of that tiny little baby girl on the Pope's chambers were really real, but it was necessary. Aiolos' treason had shown everyone evil could be even inside the Sanctuary walls, as he almost succeeded on doing harm to Athena back then. Now, the Pope takes the Goddess' safety very, very seriously. Not even her Gold Saints were allowed to contact her, only the Pope himself had this privilege.

And such a man of privileges the Pope was.

And he was privileged himself, too, as one of his most trusted men and, as far as he knew, the only one to grant him 'special favors'.

- Gemini - The voice of one of his personal servants cut through his thoughts. - The Pope is ready to meet you.

- Thank you, Gigars. - He bowed his head slightly, as he hardened his spine to get inside the Patriarch private room. The silence was broken by his metallic footsteps through the hall that leaded to his private chambers, in a path he knew well by now.

- Gemini... - His voice was low and husky behind the mask on his face, and he was leaning on his throne, with a empty bottle of wine on his side and another one just next to it, half full. - It's good to see you.

- Your highness. - He bent his knee and bowed his head to show his respects. - I am more than pleased to answer your call.

- Come closer, Saint. Have yourself some wine, this one is very good.

- I am fine, your highness, thank you.

- You're not, Gemini. - The Grand Pope raised from his throne and poured wine on a crystal glass. - I could feel your disturbed cosmos from here. - He walked towards him, and leaned on him to hand the glass. - I can always feel you, no matter where you are, did you forget that?

- No, your highness. - He took the glass on his hands, a bit uneasy; he didn't want to have wine.

- Drink it.

He drank, a really good wine it was actually. But he should have known, the Pope always surrounds himself with the best.

And a part of him felt proud, because he was there, where no one else would ever be, as enough proof of his talents. He was the best.

- Good boy. - His fingertips brushed the back of his neck, and one could even think this was a caress, but he knew far better than that. - I want you to relax. You worry too much for too little reason.

He stifled a sigh, it was better to keep quiet.

- Athena is by our side, with Victory in her right hand, and the Shield in her left. Come what may, we are ready. We are her guardians on Earth, her hands in battle, the light in darkness. - He could feel his smile under the mask. - And no light shines brighter than yours, Gemini.

He felt good when the Pope reckoned his qualities like that. Some would say the Pope's words were nothing more than lip service - given the nature of the favors he granted him - but he knew it was a lie. The Patriarch had no need of that, since he knew he would have his favors either with or without the compliments; and such thought made him frown.

He always did the very best of him to comply with his desires, despite any feelings the Pope could have on him. And the Pope knew it.

- Have another glass. - Another caress on his nape, this one bolder, made him close his eyes while his voice purred on his ears. - You are still too worried over nothing.

- But... - He knew it was a bad idea, what he was doing. - But the people are scared, your highness.

- Yes, they are. They should be, my Saint. They fear death, because life is the only thing they have. Little they know about how insignificant their life truly is in the eyes of the Gods. - By fluttering his eyelids briefly he felt the lights of the room going down slowly, since the Pope masked himself with darkness in order to be able to get rid of his garments. Not a hard task due to the darkness outside, even when the sun was supposed to be bright on the sky. - Some of them will perish, Gemini, you and I know that. But sometimes a few must suffer for the sake of many.

The metallic sound of his mask resting on the table rang on his ears, as the ruffled sound of his robe falling down the floor sharpened his senses with the fact that he was undressing, and it felt so good. It was always like this, he always managed to have this overwhelming effect on his perception with so little; but in other hand he knew well all of it was anything but little.

He kept his eyes closed, but it was already dark in a way he couldn't see much of the man just in front of him even with his eyes open. And this, all the secrecy involving the Grand Pope, and how he did reveal a amazing measure of himself just to enjoy his favors made his heart rush in excitement. And pride.

He felt a gentle touch on his cheeks, and his husky voice in a hot whisper on his ear.

- But we are not ones of the few to suffer, nor ones of the many to get advantage of it, my Saint. We are far above all that, aren't we?

Soft lips touched his own, and playful tongues fought for space on his mouth. His hands wandered from his face to his cloth, and from there to his arms, and to his hands. Playful fingers entwined with his own, and brushed the tip of his thumb.

He tensed immediately, as his touch became harsh. The Pope had his hand in a iron grip.

- What is it? Are you, by any chance, biting your nails again?

He was. He used to, specially when nervous, and that kept his nails so short that sometimes they could bleed from his bites*. And he knew the Pope didn't like it.

- I... - He trailed off, but he knew better than to run away from his scolding. - I did, your highness, I'm sorry.

- And you know how many times I told you not to do that, don't you? - He chided, as his grip grew stronger, almost hurting, and other hand grabbed his chin.

- I am so sorry, your highness.

It could seem hard to believe that such small things, as him biting his nails, could set a man like the Patriarch off, but they did, and with remarkable efficiency. He felt the Pope backing down, and forced his eyes shut. Opening them would only make matters worse than they already were.

- Take your cloth off.

He did, holding his breath. The Gemini Cloth left his body and obediently arranged itself on a corner.

- And now, what is it? - His hand grabbed his shirt, pulling it violently as he pushed him around the dark room. - What is this you are wearing?

A blue shirt with strings on its collar, with white trousers and armbands around his wrists; usual training clothes he used to wear beneath his Cloth. He knew well that some saints used to wear as little clothes as possible under their armors, in a way to enhance their connection with them. And the Gemini cloth was one of the most prone to that, since it covered his torso and legs entirely. But he never did, as he didn't feel comfortable wearing almost nothing beneath his armor.

Besides, despite the rumors concerning the true nature of his visits to the Patriarch, he had to keep the appearances and come to see him as the warrior he was, right?

But, for some reason, his clothes had the power to set him off too, and even worse than his bitten nails.

A stiff blow came onto his face, and he did nothing to block it. He already had the chance to see the Pope's rage, and it owed nothing to any powerful enemy he already faced. In fact, his rage was almost a force of nature, and only lived up to his passion.

He had the opportunity to meet both of them.

He fell on his knees, eyes still shut while waiting for another blow. A strong grip on his hair pulled him back on his feet, and the Pope's hands now grabbed his shirt to tear it off his body.

- I covered you in gold. - He said. - I covered you in gold, I gave you everything you ever wanted, the gold of the Cloth, the glory of Gemini, the victory, the love. - He kept tearing his clothes off, scraping his skin with his long nails while doing that. - And you come to me, to me, in those rags?

Another blow threw him onto his bed, and he felt his hands pulling his trousers off his body, along with his underpants. He offered no resistance, he knew it was better not to, even when he managed to take off his pants and lifted his legs wide open, his stiff member touching his body.

- I gave you all you wanted - The Pope forced himself inside of him with no preparation or lubrication whatsoever, and he felt the searing pain of this penetration on its whole. - I gave you everything, everything you asked me for, I always did! That's why you have no right to make this to me!

The Pope's hand was on his throat, pressing hard as he gasped desperately for the air he was denying him. Despite their kink for rough sex, he hated when he got violent like this; he also hated when he started to rant about things he didn't understand. But above all things he really, really hated the sensation of suffocating.

Actually, it was much more like a phobia.

- I made you, as you made me... - He kept ranting and ranting, while thrusting himself hard enough to tear him apart as he kept fighting to get his hands out of his throat. - I made you Gemini, I made you just as you made me!

But the more he struggled for more air, the more the Pope deprived him of it; and his fear escalated to a point he couldn't control anymore.

What was supposed to be a sexual intercourse was turning into a violent encounter from where he wasn't taking any pleasure at all. The suffocation was triggering his deepest fears as he struggled for more air.

He couldn't help a sensation of desperate urgency, which was terrifying but not exactly new. Flashes of what could be a nightmare came across his mind, images that he'd never seen but seemed so real to be just a hallucination from asphyxia...

Rusted iron bars on his hands, surrounded by rock and water; the sensation of imprisonment and despair, his voice screaming bloody murder while his very own image, clad in the Gemini Cloth beyond the bars that trapped him, watched undisturbed; to then turn its back and walk away, so he knew he was going to die.

- No... - He mouthed in what should be a whimper if he could breathe; he was almost passing out, despite his efforts to keep conscious. - Don't...

Another word was lingering on his head, his despair raising tenfold as he couldn't tell reality from that nightmare anymore. His voice cussing and cursing the whole world, screaming along the waves the name of the savior that was letting him there, to his death.

- S... - He tried to hiss, as a tiny bit of air got out of lungs.

His own name.

Saga.

- You are _Gemini_! - He roared, cutting his efforts to speak as he was riding to his climax. - You are Gemini, that's what you are, that's what we made! WE! It's OUR doing!

He passed out.

OOO

Some said the Eclipse was the omen for the End of the World.

They were not mistaken.

Hades and his specters attacked on the sixth night of the Dark Sun.

The Sanctuary of Athena, the Goddess of Defensive War, Justice and Wisdom, didn't stand a chance. What followed when Hades opened the gates of Hell could only be properly named as a massacre. All the power he believed to have, and that would aid him against Hades' forces, wasn't even nearly enough to confront the God of the Underworld.

The Holy War left very few prisoners. Very few indeed, and the prior Grand Pope of Athena's Sanctuary was one of them.

It was supposed to be a honor, a merciful fate indeed, but he didn't feel like it. His soul was heavy in grief; and sometimes he, a man with such ambitious dreams, could find himself longing for death. A quick, clean death.

His illusion of victory was smashed in tiny little pieces, as to show him not only the fragility of his ambitions, but also the high price the entire world was about to pay only because of him.

Because he was, in the end, too weak.

- I have to congratulate you, Patriarch, as if it wasn't because of you, our triumph could not be this complete. - Pandora was on the front door of his cell, followed closely by Wyvern Radamanthys with a bulk on his arms.

He felt bitter tears stinging on his eyes, and recoiled in the shadows of his prison.

- Actually, you managed to serve our Master much better than your previous incarnation. Killed Athena on her crib, fooled her saints for all those years... - Pandora smirked, sensing his pain and her joy. - That would be enough for you to deserve a prize, don't you think?

He lowered his head and bit his lower lip.

- We do have something you might want, you know. - She smirked again. - A fantastic warrior, that caused us many casualties. The toughest Saint of yours, with no doubt, but yet no match for Wyvern Radamanthys. By the way, broken as his mind was, it's a miracle he could do all that he did...

- Don't you dare... - He hissed, helplessly forcing the chains that kept him tied to the wall. - Leave him alone...

- Demon Emperor Fist? - She raised an eyebrow. - He believed he was _you_.

Infinite shame grew on him as he saw Wyvern uncover the bulk on his arms and put his dead naked body on the floor, close enough to his touch even with the manacles on his wrists. And he did touch him, as he carefully pulled him close to the protective cuddle he never gave him when alive.

He was dead, pale and bloodied, red gashes on his chest and his torso giving away glimpses of the fierce battle where he lost his life; but still as beautiful as he'd always been.

His Saint.

His Gemini.

His Love.

His Kanon...

- We'll keep the Cloth, but you can keep him. Have a nice night, Saga.

He wouldn't, ever again. That night, he would weep.

OOO

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Soundtrack:_ Underneath It All_ from Nine Inch Nails performed by Scala Kolacny, because of reasons.

It's not like the original version from NIN wouldn't fit, but this one's more hauntingly 'eerie'... But choose what suits you better, guys!

I didn't include the song on the fic because it's not allowed by FFnet's guidelines, but I highly recommend you to check it out.

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*There's an illustration of the Gemini Brothers that shows Saga with longer nails, and Kanon with shorter ones... And for years I believed it to be official, but it's not! :O It's from a fanartist called Ouki Shingo/Masamist, as you can see on her own website. She even mentions the nails as the main difference between them, based on canonical references... And well, giving a better look on the manga and the Taizen, apparently Kanon does have shorter nails on the manga (but I don't have a single clue if it's intentional or just the way MK drawn his hands at some times - even Saga's nails sometimes appear to be short, tho. Anyway, I'll make it intentional here)

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Oct 9th. 2012


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